A Curious Fleet
by Laburnum Steelfang
Summary: That is, a lot of weird ships. I missed my shipping days, and so I return. All gender and species combinations may appear, ship hate unwelcome, suggestions very welcome.
1. PiknimCraklyn

The mist was thick, and the moisture made her old bones ache. She had thought that would stop now. Perhaps she had to get past the gate first. She hoped she could find it soon. The path beneath her footpaws was smooth going, broad enough to admit an army, and that was odd as a path this wide should be exposed to the sun, but there was no sun here, only the mists and the trees. Step by slow step, Craklyn made her way forward, the walking stick in her paw from habit more than anything, same as her glasses; even with them she could see nothing in this land of fog.

Soon, perhaps seconds or centuries later, the gates gleamed before her, as she had known they would. The darkness within was that of a soothing misty evening, pleasantly cool, shadowed enough for any small creature to feel secure, though no predators could stalk them there. Night-blooming flowers filled the breeze as the gates eased open, welcoming her... or, as she saw, letting another beast out. She stopped.

Piknim. It was Piknim, young and fair as the day she died, clothed in shadow-green and a honeysuckle crown. Craklyn's back had bent over the seasons; she was the same height she herself had been on that day now, just right to meet Piknim's eyes.

Adolescent foolishness, harmless but foolish nonetheless they'd called it, and perhaps it had been at the time. Perhaps it could have been more, enough to be taken seriously by the adults, if it had a chance. Craklyn didn't know. She did know she had never stopped missing Piknim, had never felt the same way again. She had wondered how she would feel when this moment came, and now she was looking at the little mousemaid she felt very, very old, and dirty. What gave her the right, why would perfect Piknim want her back now? She looked away, and looked back again as dainty paws took her wrinkled ones.

Piknim kissed her, and drew her towards the gate, and with each step Craklyn felt her seasons fall away.


	2. ShardFreeta

Promotion was not living up to Shard's expectations. Angrily, he wiped droplets of water from his headfur and let his tongue hang out, hoping to ease the discomfort of the sticky-hot room, and hacked with more force than necessary at the carrots beneath his knife. Freeta shook her own head and tipped the contents of her freshly boiled kettle into the funnel, where it hissed into the long copper pipes between the vegetable beds. The myriad tiny diamonds of glass in the ceiling and windows focused the weak sunlight and the steam filling the air made the room feel like the inside of a boiling pot, warm enough that no frost formed on the outsides of the windows. He scooped the chopped vegetables into the basin, and Freeta held the door for him.

The room next door was, if anything, even hotter, but at least it was dry. The foxes' fur steamed, and they shook themselves, then let the heavy basin drop to the floor with a loud thunk. The head of the tiny tortoise, which had peeked out when it heard the door opening, shrank back into its shell, and Shard restrained himself from kicking it, not wanting either a broken footpaw or an angry wolverine to walk in. Freeta wrapped thick cloths around her paws and knelt to rearrange the rocks, moving cooler ones towards the charcoal-burning braziers. Shard eyed the fur and straw padding nailed up on the walls for insulation.

"Tell me, might a fire be accidentally started here? The room is stone, but with no windows 'twould drink up all the air quite rapidly..."

"I would try not to," Freeta said, stretching and cracking her knuckles. "'Tisn't worth it. If we can't be trusted with the Stone, we shan't be trusted at all." She tipped the basin onto its side, letting the vegetables spill out, and waved a lettuce leaf in front of the tortoise's nose. "Come on, little Stone, eat up and get fat and mayhap then thou'll realise what a trial it is to be in this heat."

Shard chuckled, and coughed as his dry throat stung. "I will never know how a wolverine can stand it, their fur's thicker than ours... No matter, love," he whispered, smiling wickedly as he helped her up. "We shall get the Stone fat and one day, I promise, we'll stew him in his own shell."

Freeta entwined her tail with his. "Of course we shall."


End file.
